Friday, September 7

a little levity

My latest posts have been downright morose and, I admit it, a little whiny. One might think that my life is devoid of fun. I assure you, this is hardly the case- and so, dear readers, a little look at the sillier side of my life.

On Tuesday Sebastian and I made our way down to Science World, it was the first day of school and the throngs of half-pints were conspicuously absent. We got there early and for a time felt like we had the entire building to ourselves. Sebastian was able to explore the toddler-centric area while I got a few last-minute travel and budget things worked out, once it had filled with kids we were ready to move on. The first thing we did was head to the disco room, in a darkened room with ever-present disco music, a psychedelic projection of the room's dancing occupants occupies one wall. In the past this room has been a hit simply because of the music, but on Tuesday that all changed when Sebastian realised thathe controlled what appeared on-screen. He went into full hard-core disco mode and it was the most hilarious thing to watch. He incorporated a few break-dance moves, some gymnastics and some elaborate hand-gestures. This included some distinct disco moves, how he knows the whole point and spin bit is beyond me, but apparently he does. I nearly fell over laughing.

We then visited the bees (they have a working hive) and the turtle and snake before grabbing a bucket of popcorn on our way out the door (amazing how much trauma can be avoided when you have a good exit strategy. This time, with the knowledge that we could come back whenever we wanted to, we left early, before getting over-stimulated and the pop-corn served as the perfect distraction. We were in the car before he noticed we'd actually left, and the promise of a return trip when we got back from Calgary (and quick topic change to our lunch menu) got him past the disappointment.

I won't bore you with tales of our dull afternoon of frantic packing, but suffice it to say we had take-out *again* and I was up far later than I should have been knowing we needed to leave the house by 5:30 the next morning,

Wednesday morning we awoke to not one, but three different alarms. Not being a morning person, I knew that in order to make our very early flight I would need to do everything I could to get myself up on time. It worked, and I managed to get dressed and primped, grab a few last-minute things and help get Sebastian ready to go (thank goodness my husband is good at mornings - Sebastian and I are both so surly that left to our own devices we would never get out of bed before noon). We were out the door in record time and breezed to the airport in about 15 minutes. Andrew maneuvered the gauntlet of a passenger drop-off-area like a seasoned cabbie and while he said his goodbyes to Sebastian I got the car-seat out. After our shirt car-ride we were all feeling bright-eyed and excited - Sebastian was talking non-stop about the adventure we were embarking on and was handing out kisses and hugs like candy. We managed a tear-free goodbye and were on our way.

Sebastian was charming and sweet to everyone we met, he walked to the gate by himself and thought the security screening was really neat. He watched with a mixture of concern and excitement as his stuffed bunny vanished into the darkness of the x-ray machine and giggled with relief when he saw it re-appear. Having forgotten the liquid rules I had water bottles packed for each of us - the friendly security worker dumped mine, but let me keep Sebastian's ice-filled cup. He also directed me to the nearest fountain so I could re-fill my water, which I thought was very sweet.

When we arrived at the gate we had to go to the counter to have our seats changed, because we had booked the tickets separately the seats had also booked separately. After initially telling me I would have to wait until they had finished filling the flight (or something like that - I hadn't had coffee yet) the woman at the counter then smiled and informed me that the seat next to my booked one was empty and she would switch it for me immediately. Such a simple thing, but it felt really nice not to have to wait. We grabbed a coffee and some breakfast pastries and by the time I had cram in my coffee they were announcing general boarding.

Getting onto the plane was a tiny ordeal - to accommodate more stuff belonging to those in business class (I am assuming)they narrowed the passage between those two front closets. This made for a comical squish as I tried to fit myself, my stomach, my coffee, my toddler, my toddler's back-pack and stuffed rabbit and my considerable diaper bag through a space that was three feet wide at the most. Thankfully once through the aisle widened and I was able to let my toddler walk on his own. We found our row and I immediately stuck Sebastian in the window-seat, he watched the various airport vehicle mill about while I got us settled. Our row-mate showed up and took his seat in the aisle. He was a business-type in his late-thirties/early-forties and as soon as he sat down I could tell he was a dad. This is a good thing - in my limited experience I have found that fathers, especially ones who travel on business, make the best row-mates. Usually they can recall a time that they travelled with their kid(s) and it was awful, so they can appreciate a well-behaved child, and also have a bag of tricks in case the child is not-so-well-behaved.

Once we settled I looked up and realised we were occupying the wrong seats- that this guy was supposed to have the window. I looked at him and said"I just noticed we took your seat, I am really sorry about that," to which he replied, "not to worry, I remember how hard it is travelling with kids (ha!) - you keep that seat, he'll enjoy it more than I would have anyways." Score!!

Sebastian was incredible on the flight, he asked questions and marvelled at all the sights, he drank from his water cup whenever I suggested it, and refrained from using his tray as a drum after only one request. We coloured, we listened to music,we ate our breakfast, we talked about where we were going and who we were visiting and before we knew it we were landing.

As passengers got up a number of them commented on how good he was, I was a little worried that his constant chatter might bother someone, but pretty much everyone who sat with three rows of us either smiled at him, told us how good he'd been or politely ignored us. Not a malicious stare in the bunch. Our row-mate shook Sebastian's hand and told him it was very nice meeting him and then told me that once his son had screamed for an entire four-hour flight.

To avoid the awkward squish on exit, I gave Sebastian a piggy-back ride off the plane. He shouted good-bye to every person he saw.

He may be a handful - but he is the loveliest handful I could imagine.